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Deceptive Men
Preview an Excerpt from
Another Novel by Alina
mrs. deveraux
Nothing is as it seems…
Coming soon…
Visit Alina at
www.alinabooks.com
or
www.alinaswritings.com
Although we make every effort to provide updated contact information, please note that information may change after material has been printed.
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Deceptive Men |
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Stealth, Wealth, and Lies |
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By Alina |
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ALINA BOOKS are published by
Alina Books, PO Box 1323, Round Rock, Texas 78680-1323
Copyright © 2008 Alina
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author and publisher, except for brief quotations in printed reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Alina, 1974-
Deceptive Men / by Alina
ISBN – 13: 978-0-578-00189-0
ISBN – 10: 0-578-00189-0
Printed in the United States of America
Book design and jacket illustration by Angel Allen
Thank You
For my mother, Yvonne
Who always believed in my abilities!
For my sister, my niece and nephews,
Thank you for being there along the way.
In loving memory of my aunt, Eather Jackson
She instilled values that could not be forgotten.
I love you all. Thank you for your support.
Chapter
1
Months Before the Annual Meeting
Staring through the windshield at the billowy forms subtly surrounding the descending sun, overwhelmed by an endless overcast sky, unique thoughts entered Evelyn’s mind as she drove down Manchester Drive. The rain seemed only miles away. The distinctive scent of downpour weighed heavily in the evening mist. She could see the darkness moving closer. She blinked and instantaneously, the rain came thundering down flooding her windshield. Blinded by the sudden darkness, her auto-lights turned on, but still she struggled for some visibility. She frightfully fumbled to regain control of the vehicle, which she immediately lost as a river of water swallowed her windshield, obstructing her view. In a panic, she activated her left turn signal trying to flip on the windshield wipers. Her car veered across the road just missing an oncoming SUV. Passing horns were heard, but no visual. She leaned over the steering wheel hoping to see past her drenched windshield, but the dotted white lines that separated the two lane street remained invisible. The sky she had embraced was no longer a spectacle of her immediate view. The trees that once crowded the street on either side had disappeared. The blackness overpowered her thoughtsshe shivered, suddenly remembering disconcerting events from her past. She couldn’t explain why, but the intensity of this very moment led her mind back to Clarence.
Envisioning his blood covered body lay next to her nearly comatose body. The thought lingered just as if he had died yesterday. Only fragments of the event went through her mind on this day. His brown, almost gray and ghostly like still eyes staring back at her. Motionless. This she could clearly visualize. The stab wounds across his chest that dismantled a tattoo that said, “Cody” underneath two baby doves, which represented his three month old son that died in his arms. Oh wait…Clarence didn’t have a son that died. Or did he? Her mind started to question her thoughts. She couldn’t understand it. She contemplated on this thought for a moment; then the warmth of his smile came crashing through her heart smothering her lungs, as she forcibly tried gasping for a breath. Still the thoughts would not elude her. She could not understand why her mind unexpectedly became wrapped around these horrific memories.
Just as the wipers splashed through the flood, she gained a clear vision of the car charging ahead in full speed as if the rain was not a challenge. Her eyes widen and no thoughts escaped her brain. She froze. Hastily, she slammed on her brakes and her back tires slid across the pavement, veering to the right. As her car danced across Manchester Drive, she blinked again to regain some stability within her thoughts. Then she opened her eyes, a moment later, which seemed like an hourall was new. No rain. No frantic windshield wipers swaying back and forth. No speeding car flying ahead. Nothing. She glanced at her surroundings and noticed that she was horizontally positioned at a stand still, with her right foot still on the brakes, in a neighboring home’s driveway. She shook her head slowly in disbelief. She was only moments away from the club but she didn’t think she would make it that far. She sat in wonder for a few minutes, then noticed something unusual up ahead.
A man standing about ten feet in the distance next to one of the mature trees in the neighbor’s yard caught her eye. The face seemed familiar, but Evelyn wasn’t sure. Her eyes glittered rapidly trying to regain focus on the image ahead. She put the car in park and proceeded to exit the vehicle. She opened her car door and tried to get out but she couldn’t. She looked over her chest and noticed her seat belt was still fastened. Evelyn unsnapped the seat belt and exited the car. Just in that brief moment, he was gone. She looked frantically across the road, then back into the yard where the man had first appeared. She studied for a second then concluded that it was probably someone from a landscaping company, although she did not see any other vehicles on the road besides hers. Evelyn deliberated for a moment, then sat back inside the vehicle and started the engine. “I don’t remember shutting down the engine,” she thought to herself.
As she sat in the vehicle, unable to move because she was still trying to put her finger on the day’s event, she glanced up again and there he was. This time, he was closer than before. Much closer. It was Clarence.
“It couldn’t be…he’s dead!”
The image appeared closer and closer and it became more apparent that the image was Clarence.
“This can’t be,” she managed to say aloud.
Suddenly, a multitude of images started flashing across her eyes. She tried to shake it off, but was unable to. She could no longer see the man that stood in front of her because the monstrous scenes from that troubling night took over her immediate view. Her first image was a fast explosive flash of light that lit up the entire room. She could clearly see an arm extended out holding a silver revolver with a black, almost smokeless explosive breeze weakly moving upward and disappearing into the night air. She could smell the burning of raw meat which practically made her puke. Her gut clenched in a tight knot as the adrenaline rushed through her veins. She pictured the life slip from his eyes as Clarence’s head bent backward in a limp motion. She knew he was dead. She shook her head again, “This can’t be…what is happening here?” Then, she could clearly hear the annoying sounds as if they were in the car with her tunneling through the car stereo. The air conditioner sang a familiar tone that frightened her senses. Taking her mind back into the house where the terror first began, Evelyn tried to forcibly shake the horrific images that pulsated through her brain like lightening, but nothing worked. The thoughts were too much of a challenge for her fragile soul. The air condition propped in the lower level living room window held up by a two-by-four hummed an unforgettable annoying sound that kept penetrating her ears. It was set as high as it could go but it was still no match for the bloody corpse that lay next to Evelyn. The stench was as thick as a heavily smog field of trees near a river crossing.
Evelyn extended her arms into view, examining her blood covered hands. Her hands dangled loosely as she suspended them in mid-air. Astound by the amount of blood, she panickedas much as she possibly could panic. Her emotions seemed like an aftermath. Her thoughts were unhurried and her delayed reactions frightened her more. She suddenly realized that she was unable to move her body, except for her arms and head. Feeling the weakness of her mobility, she thought she was paralyzed. Her mind drifted in and out of consciousness as she lay on the living room floor of Clarence’s stale, muggy home. “It must be a dream,” she desperately thought to herself. “It’s got to be dream. Why am I here with him? What happened to me?” Her cries were only a whisper away as she drifts into unconsciousness.
Evelyn finally came back to reality, anxiously scanning her surroundings, searching everywhere for the man that she once saw. Nothing. He was gone and she thought her mind had left too. She turned her wheels cautiously to exit the neighbor’s driveway and eased down the road heading toward the club. She was puzzled and frightened by what just occurred. Her mind had wandered off and in an extreme moment, she was engulfed in a flood, about to drown, and gasping for air. Now, the unnerving thoughts that literally took her mind by storm had her wondering what it was all about. Why now? Why was she revisiting these dreadful memories? She had never been nervous to meet a potential member before, so she concluded that the meeting could not be the cause of her nervousness, if she was even nervous at all. Maybe, it was the way Renée explained the circumstances to her about this woman whom she will come to meet? Evelyn pondered these thoughts as she entered into the private security gates of the MH Women’s Club just on the outskirts of Bloomfield Hills, Michigan, a suburban city outside of Detroit.
Chapter
2
The Present
The Fifth Annual Anniversary Meeting
Evelyn found herself embracing life in a new way. Weeping, although at times invigorating, had long past her system with fully blossomed smiles and considerable hope taking its place. Her lungs no longer choked from the dust and debris of life. Her thoughts were no longer scattered like a pile of broken bones; and her admittance of guilt freed her mind from frustration and suffering, leading to the road of forgiveness. She was, for the first time, a glorious wealthy woman.
As she prepared for an eventful evening with her fellow women, her mind is set at ease with the lavish table cloths that covered the antique tables in the Banquet Hall. Tonight, the Fifth Annual Anniversary Meeting will be well underway at around one P.M. The hand selected gentlemen preparing the hall were many she had used before. Their sleeveless shirts revealed their buffed arms. Their black and white attire consisted of a tightly fitted shirt that covered their torso, with the cut of the sleeve stopping at the shoulders. They wore black tuxedo neck ties that accompanied their white shirts with black buttons leading no wheresimply there for decoration. Their slightly tight fitted black slacks where custom shaped to each man’s physical attributes. These handsome men wore tiny wireless radio earpieces for communicating with each other, due to precise instructions that they were not to speak to be heard and no conversations would be carried on during the meeting. Their job…to bring the food, the drinks and make certain that no woman was left unattendedin need of anything.
The lights are set at a dim, as the clock strikes noon. No time for perfection, Evelyn must rush to one of the SQ Rooms to finish dressing. At five til one, the ladies start to shower in. Evelyn braces herself for the usual speech, at the usual place, but this time, with unusual words. The mercurial events in the last couple of months did not weigh heavily on her shoulder this afternoon, and with the clock showing ten minutes past one, she had now mentally prepared herself for the day. She mingled with the crowd for a moment or two before clutching the microphone, standing at the front of the room, to welcome everyone to another exquisite event. Her voice still held voluptuous depths of compassion and excitement, silencing the crowd with one whisper. Her dazzling eyes traveled across the room by massive force, with the sounds of soft voices gently sweeping the crowd.
On this day, it would be members only with the exception of Melissa. Un-regrettably, she shared her story of her sister to the entire group followed by a long sigh relieving her of a dissipated lifestyle. She shared her grandiose dreams of being the richest woman in the world by diluting her mind from the negative vibes that her soul surrendered to on a daily bases. Life did not seem as insubstantial and distorted as it had before. She went on, seeming especially surprised by the warmth of the crowd, and stated how she had embarked on a journey to bring the suffering of women back to the man, but found herself accepting an entirely different agenda.
When she started the MH Women’s Club, she had not known the depths of the impact that men imprinted on a woman’s soul. She had not known, for certain, what certainty was until she meet Melissa. Evelyn’s afflictions had proved to have escorted her down the road to uncertainty. Just when it seemed she had a fighting chance, and she was certain that her grief would subside, she was hit with a wreaking ball. Now, her final blow, would be the deceitful lies of corrupt authorities that tried to dismiss her from societyall, by the hands of a man. Her heart falls short of the bitterness she once embraced, and it is now filled with forgiveness. She realized that the only person that she really needed to forgive was herself.
Concentrated facial expressions were seen throughout the crowd, eyes glued to Evelyn, as silence crept through the air.
“We ingratiatingly, some unconsciously, by the discussions we part-take in and the people we flood ourselves around. Amazingly, if you speak long enough, everyone will soon hear what you are trying to hide. I used all of you to hide my imperfections and it took only five years for them to seep through my veins like a faulty IV, and for that, I am in debt to you. Beneath the old exterior paint, you’ll always find a fresh coat waiting to be revealed. Ladies, you are my fresh coat and I am blessed you have revealed yourselves.” She raised her voice with her last words and continued, “Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.”
Everyone stands to applaud Evelyn, unsuspectingly, she blinked twice and a smile drifted in place. Suddenly, her eyes glared and widen with excitement, as her sister walked through the door of the Banquet Hall with Renée by her side. Evelyn, standing at the front of the room holding the microphone and said, “This is my sister, Veronica Zellman, ladies.” She walked to meet her and said, “Can you ever forgive me for being so foolish?”
“I already have. I forgave you the moment I left that night; I just needed to clear my head to confirm the emotions I was feeling.” She looked at Evelyn with a serious brow and said, “I once asked Renée a question…I wanted to know: How do I create a better me when this is the only me that I know? She suggested that I would find the answer in you. Until the night that I met you, I did not understand what she meantnow, I fully agree. I know that it was not me that I was searching for, it was a part of me that had been missing all these years but now I have found it.” Stroking the back and palm of Evelyn’s right hand, Veronica added, “I had a dream for many years that I had sisters, and since I have found you, I will not waste this time with belligerent arrogance. You are my sister and I want to make things right.”
Evelyn grabs her, pulls her into her chest and holds her weightless body in her arms. She held her tight with nearly silent sighs heard clear across the room as all the ladies remained perfectly still and very stagnant. Tears gently dropped from Evelyn’s eyes and down Veronica’s back. “It will be better, I promise.”
“It will be even better if I could breathe,” Veronica muffles gasping for a breath in the midst of being engulfed in Evelyn’s bosom. Everyone starts to laugh and Evelyn lets her go.
“Oh, I am so sorry. I am trying to kill you already,” Evelyn said smiling from ear to ear with her hands wrapped around Veronica’s arms.
Veronica smiles and glances at Renée, winks her eye and kisses Evelyn on the cheek. The crowd melted with sentiments. But little did they know this was the kiss of death. Veronica steps back from Evelyn, glance at the tearful crowd and digs in her purse with her eyes glued to Evelyn. Evelyn was concentrated on the moment and did not see what was to come.
One of the members, Erica, watched from a fractured distance as a shiny metal object came into view. Instantaneously as Evelyn pleasingly wailed at the crowd and turned to return to the podium, Melissa walked up to accompany her along the way and with mad force Veronica pulled a knife from her purse. Melissa’s face suddenly filled with shock as she tried to reach for the knife and warn Evelyn simultaneously. “No! Evelyn! No!” She cried out.
Most of the crowd jumped to their feet, not quite sure what the commotion was about, and their eyes searched the room for answers.
“Evelyn, watch out!” A neighboring member shouted.
“What the hell?” shouted another.
Melissa made it to Evelyn just in a nick-of-time. She pushed her to the right, opposite of the forceful swing. As Evelyn managed to climb to her feet from the fall, she still had not placed the scene together. She turned to look at Veronica, who was holding a big black handled kitchen knife in her right hand. With a stunned expression, she flickered in disbelief. She did not know what to feel or how to react. Words escaped her, so she stood in the middle of the floor in total fright.
“Oh my God!” shouted a member.
Veronica turned her head slightly to see Melissa slumped near a chair holding her side. The blood had dripped onto the floor next to Melissa’s body. It was then that Veronica realized that she stabbed Melissa instead of Evelyn. When Evelyn fell on the nearby members that were still seated, she assumed that she hit her target. Veronica became enraged more and looked over at Evelyn and shouted, “See what you made me do! You always manage to escape.”
Veronica gritted her teeth and charged at Evelyn with the knife raised high above her head in a stabbing motion. Evelyn’s eyes got wider and her body became numb. The shock had not worn off and she remained stationary. She could not move. She felt her legs weaken. She couldn’t breathe. All she could see was the knife. Not a thought entered her mind.
All of a sudden, a loud piercing blast rang in the air.
POW, POW!
Members scattered for the door, stumbling over chairs and high heel shoes that unknowingly escaped some of the member’s feet. The screams were carried throughout the building. The crowd was in an uproar. The gun shot blast lingered through the air for what seemed like forever. The waiters ducked into the hallway, seeking immediate shelter when the violence first occurred. As the shots rang out, they dived on the floor of the hallway, crawling to the kitchen for safety.
Evelyn managed to pull herself together for a moment to see Veronica tunnel to the floor in a swinging motion. Her body hit the floor hard enough to bounce once from the blast. Evelyn gasped for a breath and held her chest in dismay. She faintly turned to see Erica holding the gun in her hand, extended outward, with a blank facial expression. Evelyn’s eyes swept across the room and everyone’s movements seemed to be in slow motion. Her eyes slowly blinked, her head slowly nodded from side to side, and her movements were restricted by sudden fright. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
After the piercing sounds subsided and the frantic members bolted through the doors, Evelyn was at a dilemma. “Who do I go to?” she thought to herself. Melissa lay to her left and Veronica was lying on the floor with a gun shot wound to the chest on her right. She contemplated on this dilemma for a half a second and took one step toward Veronica. She stopped. She looked back at Melissa holding her side with blood spilling over her fragile hands and thought silently, “She saved my life again. What do I do?”
Evelyn turned and headed for Melissa.
“Please, Evelyn, I am alright. Go see about your sister,” Melissa stated with struggled words.
“Are you sure you are alright?” Evelyn asked with grave concern as she kneeled to the floor trying to examine Melissa’s wound and continued, “I am so confused. I don’t know what to do!” The burning sensation in her eyes from the tears that abruptly fell was too much for Evelyn to bear. She collapsed to her knees next to Melissa and slowly dropped her head on Melissa’s chest.
“It’s okay Evelyn. It is going to be okay. Please don’t cry. Go see about your sister, that is what you should do.” Melissa tried to guide Evelyn’s thoughts, but the excitement had not worn off on her as well. She was only trying to be decisive, although she was just as confused as Evelyn.
Evelyn managed to pull up from her knees and walk over to Veronica. Veronica lay on the floor with the knife loosely sitting in the palm of her right hand. The left side of her chest was oozing with blood which had slowed down with each passing breath that Veronica took. Flashbacks of her father lying on the kitchen floor penetrated Evelyn’s mind like a lethal injection. All she could see was the blood. The blood spilling out from underneath Veronica’s body seemed to be overflowing, racing quickly across the floor. Evelyn’s hands firmly pressed against her chest, trying to stop the bleeding, but it persisted. So much blood. Evelyn’s mind became consumed with the site of the blood and she could not control her steady flow of tears.
Then she closed her eyes and raised her head up, facing the ceiling, to release a hefty sigh. She looked down at her hands but there was no blood. She scanned Veronica’s body and it was still in the same position. Her mind had gone off track again, taking her back to past events. She wondered if she was loosing it.
She watched Veronica’s body with a steady eye. Veronica’s breaths were at a slow uncontrolled rhythm. Her helpless body twitched once from the shock of the gun shot blast, Evelyn thought. “Why did you do this?” she managed to say.
“I wanted you to suffer just as I have…” Veronica made a fighting effort to respond, paused for a second and continued, “You left me. Do…do you know what it feels like to be alone? Do you know…what it is like to be scared and realizing that you’re all alone? I knew that was you on Renée’s mantel. I…knew it was you, my dear sister!” She chocked for a moment on the blood that was running from her mouth. She struggled to continue her words but her life was gradually slipping away.
“I do know what that is like. I have lived with being alone for many years,” Evelyn stated with as much certainty as possible.
“You…hide…behind your money. You don’t know what it is truly like to be alone because you have all these women here to keep you going. Even before mother died, I was alone. I was trying to fight a battle…I was trying to fight a battle that she no longer…wanted to fight. Because I knew I had to live for her. You a…abandon us! You aban…abandon us!” Evelyn watched her sister as she gasped for her last breath. Veronica’s eyes stared straight ahead, as her head slowly limped to the side and her chest rise and fell for the last time.
“Veronica! Veronica wake up! Don’t die on me Veronica,” Evelyn said frantically. “I didn’t abandon you…I abandon…me!” Her words were never heard by Veronica. She was gone. Evelyn kneeled by her sister’s side and mutely cried.
The room was silent.
Silence grew stronger and stronger, until the static from the wireless headsets the waiters were wearing could be heard. Evelyn gently swept her hands across Veronica’s eyes to close her eyelids. “You rest now,” she said to herself.
Chapter
3
Meeting Melissa
BLOOMFIELD HILLS, a town of sophisticated charm and wealth with a population of twenty-four thousand residence and the business constituents are very few. Businesses were not the growth of the communities within this town, due to the high price housing, private policing, paid for by the wealthy of course, and the women and gentlemen’s clubsall ranging from two million to over forty-eight million dollars. The roads are parallel to each other. The stop signs and light signals are suspended from new birth, and the directive yellow and white lines seemed newly painted, even after the months and years have gone by.
As Evelyn remembers, these streets were not like the grungy streets of Detroit, where directive lines, traffic signals and street names were invisible throughout most neighborhoods. Debris scattered about. Fall leaves remained overwhelming the edge of the walkways and bunched along corner store buildings, long after the season had passed, while homeless people and drug addicts mingled about. The neighborhood she grew up in started out with promise and hope but ended in destitute and despair long after her departure. Her neighborhood did not have sociable clubs with perfect lighting. Romantic trees and bushes capturing the earth’s beauty with neatly blazed cut grass perfectly trimmed leaving inspiring morning dew that could be seen for miles. Her street, Westminister Street, carried an un-delightful aroma during the early morning hours. The mist in the air was almost ghostly, with visibility being episodic by the hanging branches that sometimes blocked your walking path or the immense roots that barricaded themselves underneath the concrete bringing the sidewalk to a boil.
On her block sat a full row of houses, uninterrupted by vacancieswhich occurred on the next blockwith partially neatly structured landscaping and mature trees. The homes were not similar in style but of colortan and brown paint with reddish brown bricks seem to be the deciding architectural color scheme throughout the block. Homes were small in size, twelve to fourteen hundred square feet, but moderate for the residence, with no comparison to the square footage in Bloomfield Hills where most master suites equaled the size of these homes.
On the next block, vacant homes swallowed up the few slightly livable ones. Occupied by bums and on occasion dead bodies; with the city of Detroit vowing to crack down on the destructive trafficking, but never did. At first, drug trafficking and drug addicts selling there body for drugs –male and female– were not blatantly obvious. But as the years moved forward, these activities became more apparent.
As grandmothers passed; mothers washed their aching hands of a Menace-to-Society son that just completed his second stay at Mound Correctional Facility; and the once teenagers become men with more courageous stupidity, insensibilities, and bigger dreadful dreams; the communities are left with hopelessness. But Evelyn departed with the neighborhood before things took a turn for the worse.
As the wheels of Evelyn’s BMW strolled through the black seventeen foot security gates, her mind contemplated on the words she would say to another distorted misunderstood woman waiting in the club’s MH Meeting Room. She parked in front of the enormously huge French doors attached to the nearly seven thousand square foot building that sat on two and a half acres of enchanting painstakingly fresh cut landscaping. The sign on the building reads, “The MH Women’s Club of Bloomfield Hills”. At some point Evelyn wanted to open other clubs across Michigan with talk of moving to other parts of the country. Between her busy schedule with managing her businesses and the late night calls from the members of the Women’s Club, it didn’t leave much time to pursue other goals. Her past success had proved beyond any doubt that she had never been afraid to go after what she wanted. Consequently, all the trials and tribulations that she admits have helped develop her as a person has made her a strong black woman.
Evelyn takes a deep breath, and enters the club. The aroma is one of a proverbial scentwith a mixture of expensive floral scent perfumes, lightly scented chocolate fragrances, and a hint of a soft Clean Eau De Toilette. With all the different scents of the women that entered once a month, sometimes once a week, nothing over powered the warm rich enchanting smell of the one hundred year old mahogany wood especially sculptured to form the ceiling to floor pillars on each side of the front entrance. The handcrafted circular desk, made from the same wood with a marble top, stood five feet tall and approximately twelve feet in length. The impressive grand entrance featured twenty-four foot ceilings with a five foot in length chandelier dangling from the ceiling. Custom upholstered Italian Leather Sofa, Loveseat, and Chair surrounded the left side of the lobby as you entered the building.
From the custom drapery to the marble accent floors in the entry way, to the custom craftsmanship of each room throughout the facility; the Women’s Club was a warm inviting palace where women came to meet and discuss the encumbrance issues of the world. These meetings included heavy conversations about the charming sophisticated money grubbing looser existence of men like some of the Detroiters most of the members knew all to well.
The majority of the women that visit the facility were natives of the big city. The newness of the upcoming casinos added value to the growth of Downtown Detroit. And as your senses were pleasantly overwhelmed by the fresh new constructed restaurants, you were delighted to call yourself a Detroiter. Some of the women say they were reluctant to move out of the city realizing the potential. However, the clean-up lasted far too long for them to bear through it. Even though Evelyn moved away from the city to a neighboring city adjacent to Bloomfield Hills, she consciously realized the potential that Detroit had and made several investments to secure her position. The seemingly growing potential of the city was yet to be seen within the men of Detroit.
Some men lived their lives with one foot in and one foot out of several different relationships; going from woman to woman deceiving them into thinking that they were the only one. A large number of the Detroit men lay wasting away in prison. Some innocently converted their lives to imprisonment by trying to provide the means to put food on the table. While others embarked on a life of repetitious motion from drug pedaling father to drug pushing son. With the absence of many fathers; due to imprisonment, lack of attendance, or dead-beat dads filling their child’s mind with unfulfilled promisesbrought criminal mentality to exist in the eyes of the young man growing up, blinding him from seeing other choices made available to him. Boys raised by a young teenage mother, or grandmothers who become overwhelmingly ill or too tired to intervene. Or simply the absence of grandmother’s too young to be considered a grandmothertribally influence the outcome of learned behavior which born the insensitive, unnoticeably sadden hearts, and reaching out for the attention that escaped them as adolescents. Still, no excuse will be reached in pity for the men of Detroit, because the women had suffered the same living conditions, yet they rose above these obstacles.
Evelyn made her way down the elongated hallway, entering the MH Meeting Room, which was the second door on the right. The atmosphere of the room was similar to a luxurious estate library with custom bookshelves covering the walls and tall wingback chairs randomly placed throughout the roomall stood on wall-to-wall deep plush tan carpet. In a corner, leaning up against the bookshelf was the woman Evelyn came to meet. The woman embraced Evelyn with a warm subtle smile as she entered the room. She was slow in her movements and Evelyn felt the wretchedness of her circumstances even before she spoke a word.
The woman was dressed aristocratically with navy blue leather Hermés pumps, carrying a Hermés Bordeaux Crocodile Birkin handbag. A navy blue pinstripe suit looked to be an Armani creation with a white four thousand dollar Gucci under top covered her slim body. Her posture was broken to that of a shy innocent little girl who had just been introduced at a royal family coming out party. Evelyn ached for the misery distributed upon the woman’s face.
Her complexion was complemented with a recent tan, but the subtle bags under her eyelids did not go unnoticed. Her adorable short stubby nose was a perfect match for her small head and sharp cheekbones that glowed when she manipulated a smile. Her eyes were normally spaced from each other, with fresh trimmed brows, as the embryonic wrinkles formed faintly along the corners of her eyes making for a youthful appearance. Her long neck was smoother than it should be, given her ageplastic surgery touch-up perhaps, Evelyn thought. Freshly coated powdered makeup denaturalized her beauty or created a flawless appearance that made for a second glance to determine if it were make-up at all. But as you reach the discoloration of her chest, makeup was sure to be present, with delicate light auburn color freckles aimlessly placed across the illuminating part of her chest.
Her comfortable lifestyle was reflected on her left hand, the matrimony finger. Accompany by a magnificent huge six caret yellow cut diamond with four surrounding baguette gems, possibly from Harry Winston, pricing at over a quarter of a million dollars. The material appearance did not change the visual adversity observable in her face and gestures. But her graceful demeanor stood out which allowed you to immediately forgive the hardship appearance she tried to methodically displace, covering her emotions with opulence.
Given a closer look as Evelyn approached the woman, she made an unbelievable discovery. Her face was first familiar but soon confirmed remembering seeing photos of the woman standing next to a handsome family of haves and have not’s. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, unhappily gestured with perplexity written across her face, was the lady standing next to the womanperhaps the motherunsuccessfully trying to conceal her sadness with several coats of makeup. The photo was seen on the cover of Fortune Magazine. The featured story cover read, “Family Riches Runs Deep” with a huge photograph of the Contour Family and what seem to be the father, holding a graphically designed picture of their estate circled between both hands given the illusion that he was carrying the estate in the palm of his hands.
The father, a handsome sophisticate, with a John Gotti personathe smooth slick short black hair with subtle gray that cascaded around the edges, serious eyes, long widen at the tip nose, slightly oval round face with a breathtaking smile, and stylishly dressed. The mother, standing next to Mr. Contour, was delightfully appealing with all the gracefulness of a first lady but with weary eyes. Of course the photo was more than a few years old, but Evelyn holds a fonder memory of the beautiful feigned face of the woman standing next to an obviously love obscured family. According to the article, the family’s wealth generated a Number 6 spot on the Fortune 500 list with an estimated net worth of over twenty billion dollarswhich was still unable to capture the smiles of this family, Evelyn thought. Evelyn recalls something about family ties as far as Ireland, with business connections abroadChina, Russia, Japan, and Europe. The details of the article were not as memorable as the woman that stood before her tonight. There was something about the woman that generated a calm sense of peace through Evelyn…she liked her, immediately.
“Hi, I’m Evelyn McKenzie, President of the Man Haters Club.” She walked toward the woman with her right arm extended as she positioned her hand to meet the woman’s.
The woman slowly stood up, looked at Evelyn with a timid gesture, softly shook Evelyn’s hand and said, “My name is Melissa Contour. It is nice to finally meet you.” Even in heels her height was average, about five foot seven, three inches under Evelyn.
“Nice to meet you as well. Please, please, have a seat.” Evelyn motions her hand for Melissa to have a seat. “So, Renée brought you here today? Where is she? I thought she would be in here with you?” Evelyn looked at Melissa with a slight frown upon her face. She closely studied her gestures as Melissa responded to the questions.
“Yes, she went to the restroom just before you entered the room.” Melissa looked toward the door, and then back at Evelyn with her chin vaguely hovered over her chest. Distrusted expressions were not present in the room, which normally followed Melissa, because Evelyn’s warmth entered the environment like a lethal gas. Melissa’s trust began almost immediately, but a slight reluctance was apparent. Melissa connected eyes with Evelyn and said, “I here you are the wise one.” Feeling awkward as the words spilled from her mouth; given the fact that Melissa noticed that Evelyn did not appear any older than she.
Evelyn chuckled. “I would not necessarily say that I am the Wise One but I have been places, seen things, and done things that most of us could not fathom. Some people learn things from me and I learn things from them. I believe it’s an exchange, like a relationship. Where the wisdom begins is to know what to do in the relationship. Knowing the part you play or should play is the most important first step.” Evelyn gets out of her seat, moves swiftly across the floor and pours herself a cup of coffee, black. “May I get you a cup of coffee, some water, some juice?”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”
A calm silence controlled the room, and then the door to the MH Meeting Room opened quickly and in walks Renée. “Well, hello Miss Evelyn. Nice to see you again. I see you have met Melissa!” She burst in with an inviting smile, hair tossing from side to side as she turns her head to glance at them both.
“Yes, I have. And how are you doing these days, Ms. Renée Castillo?”
“Oh, you know me…same old shit, different day. How about you?”
“Well, I am good,” Evelyn said with a wink of an eye and a delightful smile. “You stated that Melissa may be considering counseling and would like to be considered as a possible candidate for membership?” Evelyn turns to look at Melissa, sipping her coffee. There was something about Melissa that captivated her. She sensed that a chilling tale was about to unravel but she could not put her finger on it. She was not sure if it would be Melissa’s story or her own. Eyes glued on Melissa, Evelyn felt herself in a daze unable to escape. Finally, she slowly shakes her head as she prepared her lips for another sip of coffee.
Renée turned to look at Melissa, then she looked at Evelynfeeling intensity in the air, appearing to have missed something given the steadiness of the expression that pondered on Evelyn’s face, but she did not want to mull over it too long. “Well, Melissa has a story to tell and a situation to get out of…”
Melissa pleasantly interrupts, “My marriage…I want a divorce.”
Renée gazed at Melissa through her peripheral vision and continued, “I just thought that you may be able to help her or assist her in finding a way to get out of the horrible relationship that she is in, if you want to call it a relationship or a marriage or what ever...”
“Okay, okay, Renée. Thank you,” Evelyn politely shouted interrupting Renée before colorful language began to emerge from her lips. A brief pause, then she continued, “And I am quite sure that you have more pressing things to tend to, so I’ll talk with Melissa and you can go to take care of your business, if that is okay with Mrs. Contour?” Evelyn turns to relax her bottom against the granite countertop, facing Melissa and Renée as she takes another sip of her coffee with her eyes concentrated on Melissa’s demeanor.
“Melissa, is that okay with you?” Renée asked, smiling from ear to ear glancing at both Evelyn and Melissa with an antsy look.
“That’s fine with me. That’s what I came here to do,” Melissa stated, glancing up at Evelyn across the room and back at Renée still standing several feet from the door. Melissa held her head in more confidence the moment Renée entered the room. Her chin raised an inch above her chest, her words were not as soft, and her responses were quickly communicated. Her gestures were more powerful than before, not as confident as her appearance, but her words carried more firmness. It was as if she was putting on an act for Renée or for Evelyn for that matter.
“Okay ladies, I will go now and see what trouble I can get into today. It’s a Saturday night and my body is screaming for a night out on the town. Time to hit the clubs.” Renée motioned her body in a dancing rhythm as she smiled and headed toward the door.
“You’re body is always screaming for a night out or a night of something, Renée,” Evelyn stated in a sarcastic voice, holding a bright smile.
Renée looked over at Evelyn without surprise and said, “You are right, maybe I will even get lucky and find me a decent man while I’m out there…or maybe not!” Renée laughs and continued toward the door, “Don’t you ladies stay up too late. It is ten past seven P.M. now; don’t make it an all nighter.” Then, Renée quickly exited the room.
Evelyn manipulated a quaint smile and pressed on, “So, where were we before we were interrupted? Oh yes, you were going to tell me a little about yourself.”
Silence.
“Or shall I go first?” Evelyn moved over to the table where Melissa was seated, replaced a chair to position it slightly closer to Melissa and sat down, hugging her left leg over the right.
Melissa, feeling to some extent more intimidated, loosing all restricted confidence she mustered in Renée’s presence and waited for a momentary moment to reply, “I can go first. I have a long story to tell. Actually, it’s the story of my life and the other life that I’ve come to know.”
Evelyn silently deliberated for a split second on what that could mean the other life she’s come to know. The awkward moment in the room seemed protracted, giving Evelyn enough time to think over these words.
Melissa paused for a few moments, and then continued on as her voice drifted softer and softer with each passing word. “You grow up with this wonderful, romantic, enriched picture of life that your parents promised you and your friends pushed you through. Well, you think they’re your friends. Assuming life is as you would hope it to be, still you remain numb. Numb to the interpretations that reality has afforded you. Numb to any bad situations, misunderstandings, frustrations, and any other feelings that do not fit the passionate fulfilling image you played over and over again in your mind during your adolescent years. Life has certainly presented a few twisted events that were definitely not apart of any reality I knew. I’ve walked through life holding a whole host of painful secrets because I had a family name to protect, children to protect, and a husband to stay married tono matter the cost.” She glanced up at Evelyn with a look of perplexity and added, “You know, I don’t know if you can help me. I am not sure that anybody can help.” Her eyes glared from the semi dim lighting which revealed the hidden tears that slightly engulfed her big light hazel eyes. But…not a tear fell.
Evelyn, never taking her eyes off of Melissa, stretched her arm out to reach her hand in to gently touch Melissa’s hand. “Everyone can be helped. The question is, are you ready and willing for someone to help you? The first step is that you came here, which was a bold move and still you made it. Sometimes we just need a listening ear and the help comes from within. We talk ourselves through our own difficulties and know in our mind what we should do but we have to convince our heart to follow. Keep talking and I believe it will come to you.” Evelyn softly rubs Melissa’s hand and smiles.
Melissa smiles back, feeling a strong relief enter her body and takes a deep breath. But her heart begins to race as the story of her life begins to form inside her head. Her blood seems as if it went into overload. She slowly rotates her right hand inside the left and vise verse. She crossed the right leg over the left and then the left leg over the right. She starts to reposition herself in the seat and frustration encumbered her face. Not knowing where or how to start the horrific story of her life. She was unable to control the impulse movements of her body and managing motion in her lips did not seem that difficult, however, no words escaped. Eyes glance across the room, nervously sweeping the floor. Then she turned to focus on Evelyn, who maintained a consistent calm demeanor and vibes of concerned feelings poured through Evelyn’s face.
Evelyn remained silent.
Thoughts plunged forward through Melissa’s mind with increasing speed as the seconds past. Horrifying images pierced through her soul like electric shock. She desperately tried to shake the elusions but with little success. She could feel the rapid flickering of her eyelids which remain to be seen by Evelyn. Embarrassment set in, as she tried to calm herself. Still, no success.
“Tell you what!” Evelyn interrupted the silent fidgeting, making a suggestion to ease some of the frustration that was clearly written across Melissa’s face.
Melissa’s intense eyes glanced up for a split second and back to sweeping the floor. This one look told the wretchedness of her horrific story.
“Melissa, are you okay?” Evelyn asked. Still with no response. Then she continued, “Let’s move over to the sofa. You can take off your shoes, grab a pillow and relax. We try to create a relaxing environment here so our members can come to relax and get away from the everyday frustrations of life. That’s why I spent so much money on the appearance of this club to help sooth our members mind and body. I wanted it to be like a relaxing spa resort and a home away from home without the children, the husband, and the dog. (Oh, wait a minute, the dog and the husband may be one in the same…I don’t know. I get confused.)” They both laugh, and then Evelyn continues on, “We also have, what we call our Sleeping Quarters –The SQ Rooms. In the SQ Rooms, you’ll find huge king size beds, fabulous vanity settings, three full size baths with double sinks to accompany the six rooms, and plenty of closet space. I sound like I am showing a home for sale.” They laugh and Evelyn continues, “Now, we can move to the sofa in here or go to one of the SQ Rooms and maybe you will be more relaxed there. We also have seating areas in all the SQ Rooms as well.”
“I’m fine here. We can move to the sofa and maybe I will feel a little more comfortable there. Thank you.” Melissa rises, feeling her pulsating heart calm to a more normal beat, removes her shoes from her aching feet, and gracefully move over to the sofa. She collapsed in the corner of the sofa surrounding her body with three pillows. One pillow on both sides of her and one pillow placed in her lap as she embraced it in her arms and released a swift sigh.
As her heart rate slowed down, she felt a warm comfort flowing through her body like a hot mug of tea on a cold winter day. She visualized an enchanting evening in the spring time, surrounded by blossoming tulip flowers, with its beautifully lance-shaped leaves inundated in a sea of various colors, and having tea with Uncle William. They sat in the living room setting Garden House, not your ordinary garden house, but more of an outdoor chapel setting, taking in the cool refreshing breeze that tunneled through their hair, chilling their faces. The small symmetrical garden house hidden behind her family’s large estate, upheld a perfect view of the neighboring nude baby Angels waterfall. The waterfall illustrated two Angels with water sprouting from their mouths while standing inside an oversized flower pot. With no end near, Melissa and her uncle would sit and talk for hours about family, money, responsibilities, and about not being afraid to follow your passionall before she reached age eight. Uncle William wanted her to know more than what stood before her. He wanted her to experience life’s unique creations. Like the enchanting warmth of the sun; or the amazing caterpillar that blooms into a beautiful butterfly as it matures; or a chance at love and feeling love for herself. Her uncle became her calm before the storm, delivering her a sense of security that was soon washed away with one tide. As a smile brushed across her lips, she said, “I feel much better. I guess I just needed a security blanket.” Melissa smiled looking down at the pillow that she was hugging.
Evelyn smiles and asks, “Are you sure you do not want any water or juice?”
“Yes, I am sure. At least not right now. But, thank you.”
“Okay, just let me know. If you get cool, let me know and I will get another blanket for you.” Both women laugh and Melissa continued her story.
Chapter
4
Everything in Between
Growing up with royalty in her blood did not account for the many transgressions Melissa encountered throughout childhood. Her family’s wealth began with the Royal Irish Family in the early 19th Century when her ancestors controlled a large majority of the Irish Land in Ireland. She learned that her family contributed to the confiscation of land by law makers which was intended to be dispersed to the Irish tenants, but, some how her family mysteriously remained the owners of a large portion. Some stories revealed that their ancestry ties go as far back to the Irish King, Brian Boru. “I am sure that may be just a tall tale,” Melissa thought to herself. Her family affairs grew beyond the deep foggy hills of Ireland, but were frequently seen in Indonesia, Brazil, and with close ties across the Pacific Ocean to New Zealand. The scope of their business was Real Estate but oil and coal were among the popular sources of revenue. Her family owned everything from fourteen hundred square foot residential properties to massive oil refineries; from moderately sized apartment complexes to multi-million dollar condos and lofts. Their businesses owned other businesses that channeled into the world of computer software and hardware, and dabbled in the making of nuclear military missiles.
Her father’s secret connections with the underworld of lobbying, police and government official corruption, as well as vanishing members of society that no longer needed to be seen or heard from again, was a tip of the iceberg into the life of The Contour’s. His ability to influentially persuade powerful political and ambassadorial connections was a characteristic trait among Irish men. It was said that he lied in bed with the ruthless Irish American gangsters that ruled parts of South ‘Southie’ in Boston and ‘Hell’s Kitchen’ in New York. Charges of illegal activity never reached the Contour’s doorstep however. Melissa’s father discernible connections, on paper of course, with the corrupt showed high-end real estate development transactions and commercial waterfront property, which appeared to be the extent of their correlation. As the lavish stories grew more entertaining than reasonable, it did not dismiss the obvious truththey were wealthy, extremely.
Even as a child, Melissa learned how manipulative her family could be and that there was a hefty price to pay for some of the privileges that her status afforded her. Yet, with the stories told to her during her youth, she could not fathom what was to come in the future. She could not have expected her life journey to be so complex, so frustrating, so vulgar, and so meaningless. At least, that was how she felt as time glided on.
One would think that the privileges surrounding Melissa would make life easy. Melissa, however, would contest that it was no easier than learning a new language. Because learning a new language was her interpretation of life and every waking hour presented a new challenge; a new language that she had to learn quickly and immediately adapt to, even if she did not want or have the energy to. As an adult, she could recall many times that she wanted to end the tragedy that became her life. At times she felt she had reached the darkest depths of hell and would never return, but eventually, a calm warmth traveled through her body to relax her muscles so she could breathe again. Take away the royalty, the refine clothing, the privilege lifestyle and you’ll find an everyday black woman in the mirror staring back at Melissa.
Casually strolling through childhood; she had a team of inconsistent wannabe friends. Merely hanging around to reap the benefits of her enchanting lifestyle and to say…“I was friends with Melissa Contour…you know the Contour Family. The daughter of one of the richest men in the country that practically own most of the Real Estate in Detroit, Michigan, you know, Franklin Contour.” Some muffled around her (identity unknown), just to get a glimpse of her life to have stories to telleven if some were made up or at best exaggerated. Yes, she has had her share of followers, but somehow managed to get one or two true friends out of the bunch that swarmed around her like mesquites.
Her casual strolls eventually lead her to the arms of the first man she ever truly loved, her uncle. Admired by the entire family and one of Melissa’s favorite relatives; the only relative not dazzled by the superficial elegance of the rich, but emotionally struck by the beauty of life. She learned so much from Uncle William. His mere presence was enough to put a smile on Melissa’s face. He taught her how to fight and to stand up for what she believed in; none of that lady-like stuff that bored Melissa. He taught her how to stay true to herself instead of prancing around in a two-thousand dollar dress, in the 1970’s said a lot for a young girl, with no idea of how to earn a dollar. He spent more time with her than her parents ever did.
Her mother had been too busy trying to keep her father content so he would not have a reason to manifest his anger on her. Her mother, being a petite woman, complimenting figure, an awkward walk, and pleasing looks remained invisible to the man she married. With Melissa’s father regretting ever marrying her mother…her mother had her shoes full.
The mistreatment of Melissa’s mother from her father started several years after they were married. It was not enough to be Caucasian, he thought. Not being an Irish bred woman or have the blood of the rich was something he thought he could justify. But her father discovered by fortuity through an intimate conversation with Melissa’s grandmother that her mother’s veins pump the blood of a half breed, Black and Indian. Melissa’s mother, though she appeared Caucasian, background lingered on three sides of the nationa Caucasian and Indian mother and a Caucasian and Black father. This infuriated her father to the point of considering a divorce. He thought that because her mother was raised as a Catholic, a decision solely insisted by her grandfather, that would be proof of her nationality. But he no longer looked at her mother the same and blamed her for entrapment. Melissa wondered what her father ever saw in her mother in the first place that would make him hate her so suddenly now. Did he ever love her or was she supposed to be his trophy wife that backed fired on his plan with her hidden ethnicity? Melissa would never know.
Her father was a mean son-of-a-bitch. He was a big burly man, with a husky scratched voice that carried across a room when excited. A handsomely done up face with concentration spilled across it on a daily bases. In the business world, he was a hard nose businessman, but fair and sentimental with a hint of politeness that could negotiate a stolen pair of underwear, selling it back to its rightful owner without blinking an eye. He was known for his ambitious demeanor, his political connections, and a ruthless cut throat in the underworld. His careful charisma in the public eye was an eluted fantasy of the reality at home. In Melissa’s world, he was crude and harsh, with coldness not being his only mannerism behind the cruelty of his behavior. He would shout profound words to her mother and raise his hand to strike with every intension on pounding the words into Melissa’s mother’s head. Melissa had not seen her father put his hands on her mother, but the vulgar language that soared in the air was painful enough and not suitable for any child, especially an impressible eleven year old.